


In the Mood for a Melody

by SolarMorrigan



Category: Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter (2012), Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter - Seth Grahame-Smith
Genre: Established Relationship, I'm not gonna pretend this is anything other than terrible fluff and banter, M/M, just take it, there's nothing redeemable about this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:27:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27467188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolarMorrigan/pseuds/SolarMorrigan
Summary: There is a piano in the living room.This is notable because there had been no piano before Abe went to sleep.
Relationships: Abraham Lincoln/Henry Sturges
Comments: 3
Kudos: 3





	In the Mood for a Melody

**Author's Note:**

> Well this sure happened.
> 
> So this was the very first thing (but absolutely not the only thing) I wrote for this fandom. I did it shortly after finishing AL:VH but before reading TLAV, in that happy space everyone seemed to reach for a bit where we just imagined Vampire Boyfriends Forever. It is... entirely fluff. Like, that's the mode I've been operating on lately. I wrote a bunch of fluff for what is technically a horror series. I wish I could be sorry, but I don't think there's anyone left in this fandom to care, so here, just take it. Chronologically, it takes place, uhhhh... Sometime. I didn't think that far ahead, I just wrote fluff and ran
> 
> Also, according to The Google, pianos were invented in 1700 and I chose to do absolutely no further research

Abe must have slept longer than he realized. He glanced at the clock, but it told him exactly the time he expected to see. Yet he _must_ have been asleep longer than he realized, because when he’d laid down, the northeast corner of the living room had been empty, and now–

“Is that a _piano_?”

Henry looked up form where he sat on the bench of a modest but fine (if Abe was any judge of these things) upright piano. “It is, indeed,” he drawled. “Very astute observation.”

–now there was a piano in the living room.

“You’ll pardon my confusion,” Abe replied dryly as he came stand near Henry at the bench, “only I was under the impression one was unable to sneak anywhere with an _entire piano_.”

Henry’s smile held more playful secrets than usual. “Well, you know me. Terribly sneaky sort.”

Abe rolled his eyes. “An expert, really,” he agreed. “I suppose there’s no use in asking where you got the thing?”

“You could try.” Henry turned his sly smile back at the keys as Abe settled himself at his side. “I might even answer.”

Watching Henry caress the keys, not pressing down but familiarizing himself, Abe shook his head. He supposed he ought to be used to Henry’s impossible acts by now, but there seemed to be little fun in acclimating himself entirely.

“Do you know how to play?” he asked instead.

It seemed unlikely that Henry didn’t know how, with the familiar way he’d placed his hands over the instrument, but Abe wouldn’t put it past him to go out on a whim and acquire an instrument he had no earthly idea how to work. Henry was consistently on the lookout for new hobbies, new skills, new things to learn; it was, he’d told Abe, one of the only ways he’d managed to keep himself going over the centuries. The piano wasn’t out of character, even if it was slightly out of place in their small living room.

“It’s been a while,” Henry admitted, pressing down one key, then another. “But I used to enjoy it immensely.”

“Then I won’t hold it against you if you’ve begun to sound terrible since you last practiced,” Abe replied, smiling guilelessly when Henry raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him.

“I remember when these things were invented, you know,” Henry sniffed. “Over one hundred years before you were even born.”

“Mhm.”

“I should think more than a man’s lifetime worth of playing would be enough to make it into muscle memory.”

“Of course.”

With that, Henry brought his fingers down on the keys, but despite his bravado, the first few notes stumbled along. He paused on a very obviously discordant note, frowning sharply over at Abe as if it had been _his_ doing, and Abe lifted his hands innocently, biting the inside of his cheek to keep his smile at bay.

Satisfied for the moment that Abe wasn’t going to say anything, though still eyeing him suspiciously, Henry tried again.

There was perhaps something to his muscle memory claim, after all; he played through a few more missteps, gaining confidence with each inch of melody, until the music was rolling steadily, warmly from the piano. It was beautiful, a tune Abe couldn’t quite place but didn’t care to, enjoying instead being able to watch the way Henry’s graceful hands coaxed sound from the keys; it was the only thing Abe wanted to focus on, until he chanced a glance at Henry’s face.

His eyes were closed. There was a faint smile on his face. He was radiant.

Abe watched him until Henry let the melody fade away and opened his eyes once more, turning to Abe with a quizzical look.

“What is it?”

 _You just look so very peaceful_.

Abe shook his head. “You certainly do have a way of making a man feel uncultured, Henry,” he said lightly.

“You’ve never played?” Henry asked, though he certainly knew the answer already.

“And when you imagine I’d have had the time to learn?” Abe rejoined. “Or where, for that matter, would I have gotten access to a piano?”

Henry skated over the questions. “I can teach you,” he said instead.

“I’m sure you could,” Abe laughed.

“If you’d let me,” Henry continued with a smile.

“Ah, if I’d let you,” Abe repeated with amusement. “As if it would be some great favor to you.”

Henry’s smile gentled, and he slid a hand over Abe’s. “Perhaps it would be.”

Without even a thought to do otherwise, Abe turned his hand over to catch Henry’s fingers between his own. His skin was never cold on Abe’s, not anymore, and was scarcely anything other than a thrill or comfort.

“Well, far be it from me to start denying you now,” Abe said softly.

The look Henry gave him was somewhere between reproach and fondness and somehow entirely affectionate as he raised Abe’s hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back.

“I’ll need my hand back, if I’m going to teach you,” he said, as though he weren’t holding onto Abe just as Abe was holding onto him.

“In a minute,” Abe promised, with little thought to follow through.

Henry shook his head, but he leaned into Abe’s side, hands still clasped, and played a few idle notes with his free hand. There was something melodic in it, slow and trickling as it was, and Abe listened with a smile, and hoped Henry never stopped surprising him.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also on [Tumblr](https://solarmorrigan.tumblr.com/) if anyone wants to come talk to me there. Seriously. I've been torturing my poor friend by babbling about these books for _weeks_ and they've been an excellent sport but they'd probably appreciate it if I found someone who's actually read them
> 
> (I would also appreciate it. I have _thoughts_ )


End file.
